


Blood Is Thicker

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-10
Updated: 2009-07-10
Packaged: 2017-10-07 00:13:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She never should have played in the mud.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood Is Thicker

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ user aliaspiral's [](http:)Slacker's Remix Deux.
> 
> **Original Author and Fic:** [Blood is Thicker](http://www.journalfen.net/users/etrangere/12188.html) by etrangere

Andromeda gave up a lifetime of privilege as a Black. She gave up her family, her world, her life, her _sisters._ She sank to the depths of depravity, running off with a Muggle, bringing a Halfblood into the world as if it was a worthy thing.

Bellatrix stood over the corpse of her niece, wild pink hair bleeding away into the brown it had been at birth. She wasn't that far away from her werewolf lover, and Bellatrix's lips curled into a sneer at the sight of them. Weak, mewling things. They weren't worthy of her time, and Nymphadora hadn't been worthy of even the diluted Black blood in her veins.

Even though the battle raged around them, Bellatrix Apparated away. There was something she owed her sister, her dearest Andromeda. Her dearest Andromeda, who had left her for a piece of Muggle filth, hiding in the dark to try and avoid the fight. To avoid _her._

Her skills were rusty, as Bellatrix knew they would be. She didn't dare counter Bellatrix, didn't dare to raise a finger. Her eyes were wide, surprised, afraid. Bellatrix was the right hand of the Dark Lord, had survived Azkaban with her skills intact and her desire for revenge honed to a fine point. She didn't need knives, only her fingernails or her wand spelled to a razor's edge.

Andromeda was pinned to the floor with a simple spell, eyes wild and fearful. "Didn't you miss me, sister dear?" Bellatrix crooned, kneeling beside her fallen sister. "Didn't you miss the love we once shared?" She leaned down, lips hovering just above Andromeda's parted ones. "Don't you remember that summer?"

Bellatrix cradled one of Andromeda's breasts as she kissed her. "I remember. I remember the taste of you, the games we played in the yard. I remember the feel of you, coming around my fingers, the scent of it. I remember how you kissed me, like you needed me to live." She squeezed abruptly, and tears of pain formed in Andromeda's eyes. She couldn't even cry out for mercy, not that Bellatrix would have given it.

She slid her hands down the dress, nowhere near as fine as it should have been for a Black. Her nether lips were dry, and Bellatrix's fingernails scraped her from the inside out. Andromeda couldn't scream, couldn't do anything other than cry.

Bellatrix merely licked the tears away. "I remember, don't you?" The sharp edge of her wand cut into the sleek flesh of her thigh. Blood welled up from the wound, spilling over the edge of sliced skin. "I've always remembered."

Cut, cut, cut. Slices across Andromeda's skin, a pattern, a net, a veil. The excuse of a dress was in bloody rags around Andromeda, sobbing silently on the floor. Bellatrix worked with spare efficiency, keeping herself from ripping her sister to shreds. She was still a Black. She was still Pure. She was simply misguided. She had lost her way, and Bellatrix would show her how beautiful Pure blood could be. It was wonderful, like jewels, like rubies scattered in snow.

"You shouldn't have forgotten," Bellatrix decrees, leaving her sister encased in the net of her blood like a defect in a limpid jewel.


End file.
